Each of Us, Icarus

A Sonnet for Poppy

By D. J. ReddallPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

An AI Generated Image

You don’t understand: anyone can fly

My story is clear, but few read it well

It’s true: I did burn, plummet and die

My father’s experiment went to hell

For me, at least, the plunge was worth the climb

I kissed the sky with lusty excitement;

We are all being burned in flames of time

Our fragile, waxed wings fanning firmament

I just spoke with a woman, calm, clever

She had just done a hard, tedious job

I told a joke for her, same as ever

We made light laughter of a looming sob

Learn to fly, and lift up those who must crawl

Until we all wear wings, and never fall

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This poem was prepared in response to Poppy's provocative prompt; you can find more information about her latest bouquet of them below:

I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.

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